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Post by Steve on Feb 25, 2016 11:59:49 GMT
I felt sad at the end of this play, not because I didn't love it (I did), but because it's Dominic Dromgoole's goodbye. I've loved everything about Dromgoole's tenure, the way he played for laughs everything that could be played for laughs, just as Shakespeare intended his rambunctious Groundlings be entertained. Dromgoole would set this against sensitive actors playing serious parts seriously, and somehow the contrast would make the comic relief funnier and the dramatic parts more moving. He was an alchemist. Like Rylance, he's ended his stint by putting on The Tempest, because the play is about the theatre, about The Globe. Unlike Rylance, who went out with a strange compelling three man Tempest of ideas, about Prospero's fractured psyche, Dromgoole gives us his typical full blown comedy extravaganza, punctuated with serious bits from Phoebe Pryce's Miranda and Tim McMullan's Prospero, with Fisayo Akinade's Caliban fulfilling the James Garnon role of flitting lightly from comedy to drama and back to comedy. Indeed, I missed James Garnon, as he embodies everything about Dromgoole's Globe, his precise nimble Blackadder style diction designed to delight, his dimwitted dumbstruck Baldrick brazenness, his endless breaking of the fourth wall to play with the audience, combined with sudden moments of tender lyricism and feeling: a one man entertainment machine fashioned by Dromgoole in his own mould. Dromgoole's love for his audience has seen him criticised, for not being serious enough, for not browbeating his plays into rigid shape with directorial concepts. And it is true that though he raises the "colonialism" theme here (so wonderfully explored by that recent Anthony Sher African Tempest), by casting a rather brilliant Caliban in Fisayo Akinade, whose "race" is called "vile" by Miranda, he doesn't make additional hay of the concept, and has an ending which is more conciliatory and more loving than such a concept would usually warrant. Indeed, it's Dromgoole's love that powers this play, love for the characters, and even more for the audience. Dominic Rowan is the funniest I've ever seen him as Trinculo, wielding words as comedy weapons with typical Garnon looseness and Blackadder precision, which words have been addended with constantly humorous and surprising topical references. Globe regular, Trevor Fox, is Baldrick to Rowan's Blackadder, a dozy debauched and drunken Stephano of the broadest mischievousness, and the splendid Rowan and Fox double act carry the main thrust of the comedy deliciously. Although Dharmesh Patel is competent as Ferdinand, he is outclassed in sensitivity by Phoebe Pryce's Miranda, making their romantic teaming a bit one-sided. Pryce has an ability to find truth and pathos in lines, that make you want to cry just about every time she speaks, so Patel comes across a touch wooden by comparison. Hopefully, he'll warm up over the run. The other "love affair" is more two-sided and powerful, between Tim McMullan's Prospero and Pippa Nixon's Ariel. Nixon's dreamy wide-eyed Ariel loves Prospero, but loves freedom more, and McMullen's powerful, cheerful and avuncular Prospero is movingly rendered visibly weak by the quandry of the different sides of his love for Ariel, that possessive part that wants to hold on and that generous love that wishes her to be free. Ultimately, it's McMullan that gets to stand in for Dromgoole. Prospero's final epilogue has been amended as Dromgoole's confessional and goodbye: all he ever wanted was to "please" us. Please me, he has. As the drama evaporates into thin air, Dromgoole's tenure is snuffed out along with the Wanamaker's candles.  4 stars PS: I hope going forward, that Emma Rice, in her lifelong preoccupation with the theme of "wonder," will remember how important laughter is to set the mood for wonder. Dromgoole always remembered that.  |
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Post by caa on Feb 25, 2016 17:30:57 GMT
I'm seeing it next week, but couldn't agree more with Steve. Dromgoole's time in charge has in my opinion been a great success, in particular it has been a joy to see over the years a company of actors emerge and see them perform in various productions at the Globe and Wanamaker, it is sad to think that Emma Rice doesn't seem keen to build on this company of actors.
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Post by Someone in a tree on Feb 25, 2016 18:19:45 GMT
I'd love to see this but hate the prospect of bad back for a few days after ...
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Post by peggs on Feb 25, 2016 19:12:36 GMT
I'm seeing it next week, but couldn't agree more with Steve. Dromgoole's time in charge has in my opinion been a great success, in particular it has been a joy to see over the years a company of actors emerge and see them perform in various productions at the Globe and Wanamaker, it is sad to think that Emma Rice doesn't seem keen to build on this company of actors. Oh is that what you've heard/read etc., not likely to continue with those actors you just always see there and know how to play the space? |
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Post by Latecomer on Feb 25, 2016 19:26:14 GMT
I really enjoyed this production, despite sitting on a bench, and that is a testament to how good it is! Loved Dominic Rowan, soooo funny, and thought Phoebe Pryce and McMullan and Nixon were excellent. It was my first Tempest so I have nothing to compare it with! I liked how Nixon played the spirit as being very alien and other-worldly and thought the chemistry between her and McMullan was lovely. And his voice...I could listen to it all day!
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Post by caa on Feb 25, 2016 20:47:11 GMT
I'm seeing it next week, but couldn't agree more with Steve. Dromgoole's time in charge has in my opinion been a great success, in particular it has been a joy to see over the years a company of actors emerge and see them perform in various productions at the Globe and Wanamaker, it is sad to think that Emma Rice doesn't seem keen to build on this company of actors. Oh is that what you've heard/read etc., not likely to continue with those actors you just always see there and know how to play the space? No I wouldn't say that, but just going on the comments Emma Rice made in an interview she gave and based on any castings announced, I hope I'm wrong, but I feel she feels the need to bring changes..... and these could mean that actors who have been seen at the Globe may no longer be wanted or wish to work there as they were part of a previous regime. This always happens like say at the NT. I guess my main concern is that the comments she made, and she clearly wanted to say them about Shakespeare being boring etc were I felt a bit of a worry as to the direction she is looking to take the theatre she runs. |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2016 22:13:59 GMT
PS: I hope going forward, that Emma Rice, in her lifelong preoccupation with the theme of "wonder," will remember how important laughter is to set the mood for wonder. Dromgoole always remembered that. Given Kneehigh's productions, comedy is always rubbing shoulders with seriousness, from Tristan & Yseult to The Red Shoes to Brief Encounter to Rebecca. Music too. making her a very apt match for Shakespeare, mixing the high and low, the poetical and music. Having thought they'd go for someone more traditionally inclined it makes perfect sense they'd go for someone who is likely to continue the Dromgoole approach. |
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Post by joem on Feb 25, 2016 22:29:46 GMT
When directors take on Shakespeare, they will always lose in the long run. Because it is Shakespeare who will still be remembered in 400 years time, not assorted Ruperts and Emmas.
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Post by DebbieDoesDouglas(Hodge) on Feb 26, 2016 9:39:27 GMT
Supposed to be seeing it next week but the theatre that is directly opposite my bedroom is doing it next month so il prob sack off the Sammy
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Post by lynette on Feb 26, 2016 17:15:24 GMT
When directors take on Shakespeare, they will always lose in the long run. Because it is Shakespeare who will still be remembered in 400 years time, not assorted Ruperts and Emmas. I think this is the non stated presumption of the Board and society in general. We do like a good rant about our directors. And occasionally they do offer insights. |
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Post by lynette on Feb 26, 2016 17:16:18 GMT
Supposed to be seeing it next week but the theatre that is directly opposite my bedroom is doing it next month so il prob sack off the Sammy It isn't one of the other. Both. Please. The Wanamaker is getting rave reviews and you'd be daft to miss it. |
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Post by Nicholas on Feb 26, 2016 18:38:16 GMT
When directors take on Shakespeare, they will always lose in the long run. Because it is Shakespeare who will still be remembered in 400 years time, not assorted Ruperts and Emmas. I think this is the non stated presumption of the Board and society in general. We do like a good rant about our directors. And occasionally they do offer insights. If that’s the view of the silent majority, I’ll speak on behalf of the noisy minority. I want my directors to much up the plays and then be forgotten afterwards. Of course Shakespeare will be remembered in 400 years, and not only remembered but an even more integral part of the cultural fabric. He’ll still be performed, still be re-interpreted, still be studied, still be translated and appropriated worldwide, still be rewritten as Winterson and Jacobson are doing now, and still be quoted in everyday conversation by people who don’t know their language is indebted to him. His plots will always matter, always strike a nerve with societies at conflict, under political pressure, stretched to breaking point, or running wild and free; his characters will always mean something to the melancholic, the ambitious, the jealous, the romantic, the extremist. Whatever directors do, Shakespeare will mean something for every generation.
But that’s why I want Rupert and Emma and everyone to f*** the plays up. I’m not every generation, I’m unfortunate enough to live in 2016. Obviously I’m just going to say what Jan Kott and everyone else has said before, which is that Shakespeare will always feel contemporaneous, but if he’s going to still feel contemporaneous what’s wrong with a director making it matter to the contemporary? Look at Merchant – I’ll give you the court of King James in 1605, Drury Lane in 1814, the German stage in 1935, the German stage in 1950 and the Almeida last year. Same basic words, completely different societies, completely different plays. For better or worse each director turned it into something that meant something to each generation, taking into account how directors had looked at it before.
Should I go see, say, Henry VI Part II tomorrow, and it consist of sitting in the darkness whilst Siri reads the words monotonously into my ear, I’ll still recognise something, but why not let our directors make the plays matter for us, for now, do part the legwork for us, sometimes surprise us, sometimes annoy us, but always push the texts forwards? Anyway, won’t that help Shakespeare be remembered in the next 400 years, as someone who’ll matter for whatever meagre burnt-out feral remainders of society still survive in 2416 as opposed to someone who wrote a couple of swell phrases? Personally, I can love Shakespeare on the page for an infinity of reasons, but I go to the theatre to see him in the hope that a director will provoke him, annoy him, penetrate him and find something in the play that matters to me, that matters to now, that makes a difference to him. I suppose ultimately I don't want directors to fight him and lose or win, I want them to collaborate with him - obviously not always harmoniously or successfully - to prove why in Barbican last July, in Calais this January, in Stratford this summer, Shakespeare's gotten through these 400 years and will last the next 400.
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Post by joem on Feb 26, 2016 23:01:08 GMT
I am not against directors finding interpretations of the plays which are justified by the text. You hope and expect directors to be creative with staging but when handling someone else's text the director is essentially an interpreter - not a creator. If we bring new meaning to a 400 year old text we must always be aware that is exactly what we are doing, bringing something new which wasn't there. Shakespeare was a commercial playwright, not a visionary in the prophetic sense. We can find sympathy for Shylock in The Merchant of Venice because we look for it but you don't have to look so hard to find the anti-semitism which was par for the course at the time. When we then go on to chop out the bits of plays we find distasteful (as the RSC did with The Jew of Malta) to our beliefs we are being dishonest and disrespectful to the text and the audience.
Art, culture, music has its contemporary works which feed off our situations to acquire instant relevance. Shakespeare does not need the Bosnian genocide, or the refugee crisis or the crimes of Jimmy Saville to continue being relevant because the greatness of Shakespeare takes wing when he writes about timeless, culture-unspecific values and emotions. To reduce Shakespeare's plays to something quite apt to reflect a passing crisis which may be forgotten in two years (the EU referendum???) is to belittle them and give them a mere anecdotal value.
Also, do consider the disappointment (not one I can suffer myself) of the first-timer who excitedly goes to watch his/her first Shakespeare and is faced with someone reading a text monotonously. Not every member of an audience is a battle-hardened theatre-goer!
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Post by Deleted on Feb 26, 2016 23:50:10 GMT
Shakespeare wrote his plays to make reference to contemporary issues, so why shouldn't those be transposed, given that they no longer mean anything to the audience watching them today? Take Macbeth for example and the relevance of its Scottishness, James I's obsession with witchcraft and the line of succession that brought him to the throne.
Shakespeare wrote plays to speak to today, whenever that today is, not just through 'timeless' moments but also by very specific references to his 'now'. Part of the director's job is to make his 'now' resonate with our 'now'.
To take just one example, those in Romania watching Purcarete's melding of Shakespeare and Jarry's Ubu Roi weren't thinking of textual fidelity but of the way that both illuminated the recent downfall of Ceacescu. Even before his fall Macbeth was the Romanian play of 'now' because directors had made of Shakespeare what he would never have known about or understood. The beauty of theatre is that the script is a starting point, a blueprint on which the production is built and the playwright can have been prescient in ways that they will never know.
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Post by Coated on Feb 27, 2016 14:22:40 GMT
Phew, glad I read this thread today and remembered that I booked a ticket for this which I'd forgotten to add to my calendar - would have been exceedingly cross if I missed this especially after forking out good money.
I saw Cymbeline as my first Sam Wanamaker Playhouse candle-lit Shakespeare and rather enjoyed it despite the miserable seating, so I ended up booking all 4 plays.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2016 0:12:13 GMT
Has anyone seen this from the pit? Will spoiler the rest - it's minor, but just in case anyone likes their experience unadulterated... {Spoiler - click to view}
Is Caliban hiding beneath the stage before it starts? A woman taking her seat tonight let out quite a shriek and by the time a bunch of us had whirled round in her direction, she and a bunch of other people, including FOH as far as I could see, were in fits laughing. I assumed perhaps FOH's torch had cast a shadow she'd mistaken for a mouse, but when Caliban burst out later on, I wondered if she'd seen the actor moving earlier and got a fright? |
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Post by Deleted on Mar 3, 2016 8:15:30 GMT
Yes. Basically. Okay, I'm on a computer now... Yes, the front of the stage opens up into the pit. There's some hanging foliage, so when you're going into the theatre you might look at it and think "oh cool, I guess Caliban might be coming out of there later?" but then you realise just a fraction too late that the actors are moving around the stage area during the pre-show, and Caliban has burst partially forth from his lair with a snarl and a wave of his arms. The darkness of the Playhouse really works for this, 'cos you just can't see him at all until he's lunging forth at unsuspecting pit audience members. |
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Post by lynette on Mar 7, 2016 21:57:56 GMT
Dunno about the lunging. I was sitting in lower gallery and must have missed the action! But I loved the production. Unshowy, not pushing an agenda yet it made me think of its various ideas much more than usual. The masque was funny but I'm yet to see a masque that is as glorious as I'm told the original ones were. They cost thousands of pounds and would have been highly anticipated. I think Shakespeare was joining in the fashion or maybe he was going through the motions. But the speaking was clear, so be grateful for small mercies these days
I've seen three of the four last plays in this season. Missed The Winter's Tale cos we woz poorly. I think they have been very, very good- the approach, the candles, the speaking of the verse, the jokes, all good. I wish other directors would see how powerful a direct production can be. No giant balloons, no sex changes, no need to be ashamed of a little complex sentence structure. I'd love to see Antony and Cleopatra here though I reckon this play was written for the open air theatre.
Now if only they can create a bit of atmosphere in the foyers in the winter, this would be really special. The restaurant was full and buzzy, decent food. They need to offer some seating, some snacks, some activity in the spaces there. Buskers?
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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2016 16:42:04 GMT
Now if only they can create a bit of atmosphere in the foyers in the winter, this would be really special. The restaurant was full and buzzy, decent food. They need to offer some seating, some snacks, some activity in the spaces there. Buskers? The whingeing ENO chorus members could try their luck singing for their supper when they've finished their hastening of the utter destruction of ENO. |
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Post by David J on Mar 28, 2016 22:32:48 GMT
Tim McMullan has to be one of the most underrated actors to date. He doesn't have to put too much into his performance to win you over. It is both the gravity and lightness in his delivery and the subtle signs of expression and body language
And its great to have him perform alongside another favourite of mine, Pippa Nixon. I think Sandy Grierson from the David Farr production remains the best Ariel for me, but Pippa still portrays the relationship with Prospero beautifully.
This production only grew on me as it went on. Despite the magic this strangely felt understated. Unlike Domdroogle's previous productions it doesn't work hard to entertain the audience. The comedy from Stephano and Trinculo felt drier than the usual foolering around you get from those two. Dominic Rowan rather reminded me of John Cleese than Rowan Atkinson (his delivery of the lines sounded similar)
But as we neared the ending, Tim McMullan's performance was moving me to tears, and even the man across the aisle from me was sniffling
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Post by peggs on Mar 30, 2016 16:42:18 GMT
Oh this had me leaving smiling yesterday and not just because I had sat in the lower gallery and therefore still have use of my legs and back, what a wonderful ending for Dromgoole. I hadn't been able to imagine pre seeing why he was so adamant that these end plays worked best inside in a small and intimate space but he wasn't wrong, having seen this a few years ago outside there with all the rushing around that you get I was pleasantly surprised how intimate, how touching, how much you could do inside. The use of music made so much more sense of all its mentions in the play, the masque while perhaps not amazing gave you some idea of how these would have been the great court pieces . As noted above why isn't Tim McMullan better rated and known though presumably is sufficiently at the Globe to get the part. He pops up a fair bit on tv but in tiny roles which tend to distract me from what i 'meant' to be watching as i sit much more interested in what he is doing and fortunately rather a lot in theatre but in this small space it gave that wonderful voice of his full effect, it's so melodious. It really was touching by the end as you see the mixed emotions play across his face. Having heard much about Pippa Nixon on here (or the old board) I was eager to see her performance and felt she leant Ariel a sort of other worldliness, her moment and speech and her close study of 'people' and their emotions as the play progressed was really interesting. From now on think perhaps all drunk characters should be played by Dominic Rowan as it was so funny and I enjoyed the modern add libbing (well I expect it was worked out in rehearsal), it made me think that, that was probably how it worked originally. You could almost feel people's anticipation every time this double act stumbled back on stage. And I loved the final light filled dance, most attractive.
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Post by Nicholas on Apr 25, 2016 3:20:25 GMT
Goodnight Dominic. Saw this Tempest on its final show on Friday, and I’m just back from the final Globe to Globe Hamlet, and I find myself rather moved by his extended farewell. The last five shows at the Globe/Wanamaker have seemed a perfect example of why the last ten years under his regime have been such wondrous years for a theatregoer.
Pericles was, for me, Dromgoole airing the play not to re-assess a lost masterpiece or the usual gubbins which comes with the lesser-knowns, but quite the opposite – to prove that, beneath the language we love and the dust 400 years gathers, Shakespeare was capable of writing an adventure every bit as much damn fun as Sinbad the Sailor or The Princess Bride. It wasn’t a production people will write about in years to come, but that was rather the point, and I left with a grin on my face and a spring in my step and with my buckle fully swashed.
Cymbeline, unexpectedly and possibly entirely due to the night I saw it, will be one of this year’s highlights – not because it was a great production (it was a good production) but because it was a great evening. Yates played this rather as Shakespeare the sitcom (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I never understand why people see the word ‘sitcomy’ as derogatory), as criss-crossing couples fall in and out of love in laughable situations. That meant some of the serious battle scenes and high-stakes deaths didn’t mean as much or have as high stakes as they could elsewhere, but Yates knew what he was doing. Probably half the audience were probably under 25, and there was definitely a group of tourists or students or what you will from America there. In the air it was evident that most of us hadn’t seen the play or knew what was coming, and I think what made Yates’ show great was that he deliberately played it to that exact audience. The noise that night shows it worked. I’ve never been at the theatre with so much laughing and smiling and oohing and aahing and clapping and cheering and whooping and hollering, entirely sincerely, entirely appreciatively – and this wasn’t Romeo and Juliet or Much Ado or a student favourite, this was bloody Cymbeline! That a lesser-known (and, frankly, lesser) ‘tragedy’ could charm the pants off everyone and remove behavioural inhibitions was a joy. It was wonderfully done by Yates, it’s what Dromgoole’s done in his ten years, it’s what Rylance did before him, and somewhere in the ether of the building next door, I felt that Sam Wanamaker was smiling a very broad smile that night.
The Winter’s Tale seemed the exact opposite of the Branagh one, in that where that show floundered in Bohemia but worked in court, I thought this came into its own when it was finally made free in its carefree Bohemian way. In court, I think the scales were tipped too far, with Leontes too violent and unpleasant and Stirling’s wonderful Hermione so hurt my heart bled for her. In Bohemia, on the other hand, there was a lovely simplicity to a life of farming and dancing, a breezy freedom to the lifestyle, and another stunning scene-stealing cameo from the great James Garnon. I can’t say it was my favourite Winter’s Tale of the year, but – shockingly – it managed to make the entertaining scenes genuinely entertaining. And a great bear.
And so to The Tempest, with which Dromgoole grants us farewell with characteristic warmth, wit and humanity. The Wanamaker leant itself to this play surprisingly well, converting its stage to a tiny little blip of an island and its candles to flickering fairy-like magic, and onto this, this cast of characters fit beautifully. Pippa Nixon’s Ariel was never of this world but full of wonder towards it, where Caliban was too of this world and full of hatred instead. Ferdinand as a funny flirt works, and Phoebe Pryce’s emotional vulnerability made their meeting beautiful. There was something so delightful about seeing familiar old faces in the cast of the crew of the ship. All these were of course overshadowed by Rowan and Fox, with Trevor’s timing and Rowan’s ridiculous improvisations (as Stephano’s a fool who thinks himself a king, Rowan’s Shakespearean delivery of absurd ad-libs fit the role to a tee) bringing me to tears with laughter.
And then we come to the subtle, wonderful Tim McMullan. Blest with one of the most naturally entertaining set of features, all eyes and eyebrows and THAT VOICE!, he can afford to be one of the best under-players there is. Beautifully, heartbreakingly repressed, his Prospero was a man whose tragedy was that he loved too much too deeply – Miranda and magic and Ariel and the island – and was now faced with the task of letting go of everything he held so dear. Watching him repress the personal sadness this caused for the happiness of others meant that once I’d rubbed the tears of laughter from my eyes, I was rubbing very different tears away instead. The way he said “I’ll drown my book”, the way he said goodbye to Ariel, the way he forgave all... I’m genuinely welling up now, as Dromgoole and McMullan made The Tempest a very humane, almost moral tale of doing the right thing for the people you love, painful though it may be to you. And all to end with that beautiful, beautiful jig, then out with the candle...
And finally, a word on Hamlet. It wasn’t perfect, but it was fascinating in its imperfections. In soliloquy, for example, this didn’t just overthink the words but would gesture to his mind when he was thoughtful, his eyes when he was crying, his sword when he was angry. For us, that’s a bit OTT, but for moments I would imagine I spoke no English, and were it all Greek to me I’d still follow the emotions if not the events – so when I say it wasn’t perfect, what I mean is it prioritised plain-speaking, storytelling and clarity over innovation and artsiness; and for a show that needed to speak to so many people, that was perfect. It was very good regardless, though, from wonderful music that told the story in and of itself, to a couldn’t-be-bettered troupe who were brimming with life and energy, to a fantastic comic Polonius as if Ade Edmonson were playing Sigmund Freud. Miles better than the CUmberhamlet. It could have taken bolder decisions in its politics, in its melancholy, in its atmosphere, but in doing so it would have imposed an interpretation of the play upon 197 countries; instead, this broadly comic, broadly moving, swiftly moving version is one to which countries can bring their preconceptions and find personal significances within. It shows what an incisive and audience-aware director Dromgoole’s been these last ten years. And then there was just that thrill of knowing the languages, the lives, the landscapes this show and these people have soaked up and are now bringing back to us. It wasn’t a production, it was an experience, and that experience – buoyed further by an oh-so-enthusiastic audience packed with famous faces old and new and a crowd who clearly loved this building and all it meant to them – was incomparable.
What separates Dromgoole from the other great Shakespearean directors is that Dromgoole’s always prioritised honouring the audience over honouring the plays. Historical accuracy or contemporary appreciation? We’ll have Nunn of the former and all of the latter. Dromgoole’s always understood that Shakespeare was a shameless, crowd-pleasing populist, and the Globe at its best magnifies this. I don’t think this has ever gotten in the way of scholarly insight or theatrical inspiration. His Henry IV is an exquisite piece of near-perfection, and the filmed versions are up there in the top ten filmed Shakespeare. This Tempest didn’t shirk on the colonialism of Caliban, only filtered it through the moving human drama. Of last year’s three Measure for Measures, I think his was not only the funniest nor just the best, but actually the most profound through its populism. This problem play was hardly problematic; it was a sincere love story of a novice nun finding a kindred spirit in this clumsy plot-layer trying to rectify his many mistakes, a relationship of mutual understanding and confusion through which they can both grow. There was something so fresh, so heartening, so insightful and so enriching about this. He played the Duke not as vindictive and cunning and dictatorial, nor Vienna as an evil over-governed police state; but the Duke as an overgrown enthusiastic child making it up as he goes along, and Vienna as a place of glorious debauchery – a little, one imagines, like Dromgoole and the Globe themselves.
I’ve always loved the Globe, since coincidentally I first went in 2006. For actors, no other theatre permits, or demands, actors push themselves so. For audiences, no other theatre is so democratising, yet no other theatre is so demanding. That’s Sam Wanamaker’s doing, and we still owe him thanks. But programming one Bible, two Rylances, several Allams, 37 countries, 197 countries, one van Kampen love letter to theatre, and Nell Gwynn is Dromgoole’s magic. Not just overseeing the Wanamaker playhouse, but opening it with such glee and such panache is Dromgoole’s magic. Making sure – through tour, through cinema, through globetrotting – Shakespeare reaches as many people as can be is Dromgoole’s magic.
I do have every faith in Emma Rice, but opening with a ‘Wonder’ season at the Globe is something of a tautology. Under Dromgoole, this theatre has been a real wonder. |
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